


Maybe I Don't Like You

by maybe_maye



Category: GLOW (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, Introspection, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-14 08:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19269268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybe_maye/pseuds/maybe_maye
Summary: Sam Sylvia's thoughts about Ruth Wilder during the events of GLOW





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading fanfic for 12 years now and for some reason when I binged GLOW this weekend I finally felt the urge to write some. Maybe it's because the GLOW tag needs some love so I'm a little less afraid to try my hand at writing again! 
> 
> I love a good introspective piece so here is my rambling, un-betaed look at Sams thoughts during the first season of glow. Didn't expect to be shipping them so hard but here we are!

“Sorry what’s glow?” A voice interrupts, before Sam has even begun his batshit pitch for a women's wrestling show. He saunters forward from his perch against the ring, quickly taking in the woman who had spoken before answering her question. He registers brown hair and a plain face before another girl speaks up. Fucking actresses, won’t even let him explain his vision before they start questioning everything. After more than half of the prospects file out of the room at the end of his pitch, he doesn’t bother noticing if the mousy girl had stayed behind.

The line of women handing him a wide range of resumes, crumpled photos, and head-shots is frankly fucking depressing. Sam can feel his half-assed vision of GLOW slipping away from him as each mock-audition progresses. He looks up to see the brunette who had interrupted him earlier. 

“Ruth Wilder.” Sam tests the name aloud, gazing down at the photo. Her resume is better then any of the others he's seen today but its not exactly anything to write home about. He feels a weird attraction to wide eyed woman in the photo. He's seen his fair share of actresses, fucked several of them too. She’s not particularly pretty or awe-inspiring but he finds himself hesitating all the same. 

Then she opens her goddamn mouth again. Fucking questioning everything, arguing with him during the goddamn audition. Picking up on more than most of them have. He tries to unsettle her, for some reason he taunts her about her looks, his confusion over whether he wants to fuck her or not. The look on her face makes him hate himself a little bit more than usual. He knows he's old and leering and when he says he doesn’t know, he means it. 

“Ruth, Ruth, Ruth. That is not a great name.” He sighs rubbing his forehead and then they’re on to the next girl in line.

Later that night as he flips through the head-shots, he finds himself lingering over one. “Ruth Wilder.” He says aloud once more, still unsure why he’s just a bit fixated on this mostly unremarkable actress. “Fucking whatever, why not.”

The callbacks circle the ring as he tells them how the day will go down. They’re gathered around him, dressed in various styles of athletic gear, possibly pajamas, or just underwear. Some girls are all coy, flashing skin and batting eyelashes. The others stand silently, shifting in place, arms crossed to cover their exposed skin. Doesn’t fucking matter, he’s seen it all and if he casts them, nothings gonna be hidden from the viewers. For some reason Sam can’t help but call out Ruth Wilder again, proclaiming it might come down to whether or not he likes their face. He doesn’t bother looking at her reaction.

The ensuing hours of watching women fail at wrestling is deeply disheartening and he tries to steel himself for the coming months of trying to make this rag-tag group of freaks into something resembling wrestling. It’s Ruth's turn soon, the only one whose name he really knows at this point, and he makes a point of cleaning his glasses and missing her quick roll across the ring. As the afternoon drags on he, he starts to make a list in his head of who he could deal with. The perky British one who is fun to look at but empty headed, the giant one who is y but strong, maybe the two hairdressers who Sam can’t decide if they irritate him, amuse him, or both. 

Then Ruth fucking Wilder pulls her stunt with the acting, all old school drama and over the top transatlantic accent and gestures. Sam briefly considers the possibility of the gimmick but fuck it, he’s been doing this too long and he can’t deal with another actor who doesn’t take direction and she’s got an attitude to boot.  He gives her one more chance and then that's it, the other one is bigger and has connections. Sam ribs her, proclaiming his uncertainty over his attraction to her, one last shot to unsettle her ( _maybe I like you a little too much_ ), make himself feel powerful but shitty and Ruth Wilder is out.

When he's several drinks in, he considers admitting to himself that he was more than a bit attracted to her and felt a spark of something when she was arguing with him, pointing out the flaws in his process. But it doesn’t matter. Ruth Wilder is out and he doesn’t spare her another thought.

Then it's all happening too fast. She's barging into his gym, dressed like a lunatic, claiming he’s wrong and showcasing her flair for the dramatic and apparently her commitment to the job. Then she’s fighting with a woman with a baby and Sam has a vision of what GLOW could be. Maybe it’s not just a stepping stone to get his movie made, something he’s doing to get Bash’s money. Suddenly he has a vision and a muse.

She’s doing fucking Audrey Hepburn. His real actress, his Strindberg as he calls her. Sam’s torn between being horrified that she's real (and he hired her) and a tiny bit amused at her dedication and whimsy. This small town girl with potential who can’t seem to get out of the shadow of old hollywood and for a small moment he sees himself, young and naive, wanting to make movies and loving the films she can’t seem to shut up about. Then he’s reminded that he’s old and she’s fucking annoying and he has a show to make.

It’s a fucking disaster. The girls don’t know anything about wrestling for the most part, they’ve got attitude and drama, Cherry’s mad, and Sam is fucking tired already and out of blow. He’s begged to get Debbie onboard and while she’s beautiful and B-list and needed for his vision, he’s already dreading the drama queen he’s apparently invited onto his set. Not to mention the potential tinder box of one Ruth Wilder. To make sure she doesn’t get any ideas or bother him anymore, he tells her doesn't like her. He wants to be amused by the stricken look on her face and he plans to fuck off then and there but he tells her to not give a fuck and to relax, advice he needed to hear at her age, and drives away.

He’s inspired and writing and printing and handing out the script, eager to start. He amuses himself by not giving Ruth a character, knowing she’d be desperate for backstory and attention, an excuse to over act her little naive heart out. And Bash is there and it’s not what he thought it would be and they’re off in a fucking helicopter and Ruth is there, desperate to please, suggesting she memorize her lines instead of going to the party with the rest of them.

Sam gazes down at her as she nervously ruffles her hair and hes struck once again by how she can fucking irritate the shit out of him and be everything that annoys him and yet when she stands before him, sun hitting her hair and being so fucking earnest, he can’t deny the pang of attraction he feels toward her. He walks away and he’s stuck in the car with his mini-fan who is definitely not the age she says she is and Cherry’s still mad. 

Then the girls are getting fucked up and the vision that Sam just discovered he had for GLOW is being fucked by Bash and his party and costumes and money. Two weeks ago Sam didn’t really give a fuck what the show was but suddenly he wants it to be good, great. It needs to be different. He’s leaving, storming off like he always does, ready to get drunk and then she’s there again, chasing after him.

He doesn’t understand how she can already be so attached to this literal shit-show and she says its all she has and he’s disgusted because he’s the same and he can’t deny he wants to make this fucking dumb show and if he can’t, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. Her big eyes stare up at him and he’s going back inside, fucking compromising with Bash.

The characters fall into place and Debbie gets her starring role and all that's left is Ruth, as usual. She gives it her all, pouring her heart into Homewrecker. They stare at her and it doesn’t fit. This small woman with the big eyes and the soft brown curls doesn’t seem like the type to ruin someone's life.

Sam forgets sometimes that she fucked her best friend’s husband. His own marriage was ruined by cheating but he finds he doesn’t resent Ruth for it. He looks at her and sees this desperate, broken, eager to please artist who hates herself and has walls too high to climb, no one in her life to latch on to and he scowls because hes projecting himself onto her, they aren’t the same and he doesn’t know her, not really.

The girls are living in the motel, kicking training into high gear. Ruth pitches character after character, each one approached with her usual over the top acting and fastidiousness and each one falls short. They don’t fit into the vision Sam has of the show or of her. She’s neurotic and he can’t seem to pin her down. They trade barbs and he sets the she-wolf on her. And he thinks about that stupid dating video he made and how Ruth has a nice smile, not that its often directed at him.

He’s fucking Rhonda, he’s not really sure why. Yeah she’s hot and young and he knows he’s good in bed but it doesn’t really seem to help his loneliness. Sam feels like he always does when he fucks one of his actresses, powerful until the high ends and a little bit sleazy. He brings Ruth with them to go see fucking birdbaths or whatever, partially as a buffer and because she’s picked up the moves fast and seems to be the most artistically minded out of all the girls. He would never tell her but he can tell she has a bit of an eye for all of it and he knows she's eager to please. Sam pretends he doesn't get a little flutter when she beams up at him when he invites her.

It’s going shit, even Rhonda’s accent and perky boobs won’t salvage it. And then Ruth’s breaking through the crowd, Bash’s trench coat haphazardly wrapped around her and a decent Russian accent calling out. Her eyes sparkle and Sam finds himself beaming like an idiot at her, playing the crowd and that douchebag Pat like a fiddle. He helps her bit along, getting the crowd to boo as she continues her tirade against capitalism. Her trademark over acting, collection of accents, and funny little movements have somehow all come together at last, into an over the top, zany Russian. Sam’s still looking at her as the ribbon is cut and she flashes him that teachers pet smile and he winks, his cheeks a little warm. 

He blames the sunny day as they pile back into the car, endorsement won.

She can’t stop with the accent. They sit in the car, cheap and greasy burgers in hand as she comes up with more and more ridiculous sayings. It’s been a few hours but he's still laughing a little too much at each of them. He’s sober but he feels lighter, happier, like he usually does after his first few drinks. They feed off each other well, the ideas flow back and forth and his neck hurts from craning around to look at her every few seconds.

For some reason he says he likes her like this. He even goes so far to say he likes her even more than he usually does. He wonders if she thinks he's saying he usually never likes her or if he's admitting he usually likes her a little bit more than he should. Her teasing reply goes straight to his cock and he changes the topic to the issue of being Liberty Belle’s heel.

She fires back another dumb idiom and Rhonda interrupts. Sam fucking forgot she was there and he can tell by her nonplussed expression she noticed. His voice changes, the smile dropping from his face. “So?” he asks when she speaks, not wanting to end the moment with Ruth and the roll they were on. Then she’s leaving “to wee” and slamming the car door on her way out. Ruth is quick on the ball, adopting a decent British accent. He’s smiling again, laughs still coming easily with her. He feels boyish as he chuckles and tells her to shut up before she calls him on his relationship with Rhonda. “You’re fucking her”. 

Then Sam's doing what he always does, what he does best. Ruining the moment. Being a dickhead. Throwing her failure back in her face because she reminded him that to her, he's that sleazy old director who fucks his young actresses then treats them like shit. That he’s her boss and he shouldn’t be so chummy with her. He prepares himself for an awkward ride back to the motel, both women mad when he surprises himself by breaking the silence, by saying sorry. 

It bubbles out of him and he's telling her sorry again, about how he went to his ex-wife's therapist. And he’s asking her why she did it and she looks so small. Young and tired and Sam’s telling her more, that he’s done his fair share of dumb shit. That he feels small and insecure and he hopes Rhonda doesn’t come back too soon as he looks at Ruth, saying that she doesn’t seem like a bad person, that she seems like… an okay person. It’s why homewrecker didn't work as her character, she needed a larger than life parody because he doesn’t think she’s bad. He thinks she might be like him. Then Rhonda's telling Ruth that they’re fucking and he’s so fucking tired and old and the moments over.  

Ruth writhes around on the floor of the ring, giving her official pitch of Zoya, and Sam finds himself strangely captivated as she throws herself up and down, narrating and breathless and desperate for approval, her chest heaving as her eyes flicker between him and Debbie. And he’s turning to see a stone cold Debbie and he hypes it up to her, making it about Debbie but thinking that Ruth might be the best thing GLOW has going for them at the moment.

When that fails, he tells Ruth to take the day off. He knows it's the worst thing for someone like her, being told to chill out, take a break. Sam isn’t ready to go easy on her, she still annoys him and he enjoys winding her up too much to stop. Even if they had opened up to each other, even if he finds his eyes lingering on her high cut leotard too much. With a ridiculous story about one of her past acting jobs, she bounds out of the ring, curls bouncing, and he watches her go and steps in his fucking coffee.

Rhonda gets too close and open about whatever it is they’re doing and Sam doesn’t understand. Fucking her is a means to a end. He watches the video she made, he isn't sure if it was meant to turn him on but it does give him a decent idea for the theme song. And he gives her credit for trying to save that shitshow of a match by joining Ruth in the ring and starting the chant up. But he finds himself watching Ruth, not Rhonda, as all the girls dance and chant in the ring. Sam knows he’s got a dumb smile on his face and that Debbie needs to be dealt with but for that moment, he sees GLOW like it’s supposed to be and Ruth is cheering, her fist up in the air as the crowd applauds.

Then Rhonda is being clingy again and Sam regrets the decision to drive her and let her stay over and for some reason he tells Ruth this when she comes to see him, eager to suck up and defend Debbie and the show. He doesn’t know why he’s telling her about it, they aren’t close enough for this kind of talk and it’s not exactly appropriate. But his conversations with Ruth never seem to go the way he plans and he’s inviting her to see the venue with him. 

She’s all jokes as they tour it and the realtor calls her his girlfriend. They both whip their heads around to correct the situation but Sam can’t deny he didn’t feel a little thrill that she assumed they were a couple. Maybe he didn’t look completely ridiculous next to a young and pretty actresses.

Then Ruth has more movies to references and jokes to make and he’s grumpy because they don’t have the money and doesn’t want to hear her shit. Ruth surprises him, she tells him to tell her what he sees and it’s the jump start he needs. The old theater fades away and he’s gesturing wildly, trying to show her what he can so easily see when he looks at the world. He’s excited, the show falling into place, the shots they could capture, and she's grinning at him and he feels like she understands, that somehow she can see it too. 

She tells him it’s perfect and he feels warm, his cheeks tight from smiling at her. He can’t remember the last time he’s smiled this much.

He fucks Rhonda again that night and for a minute he imagines its someone else beneath him, that it's not just “a quick shag”. That the woman he’s sleeping with gets _him_ and his vision. It’s over quickly. Rhonda gets dressed and brings up the dating video and suddenly he’s a little desperate. Rhonda annoys him but he’s lonely and he can’t want to fuck Ruth so he’s asking Rhonda on a date and she’s telling him that he doesn’t like her, that he’s afraid to be alone. And Sam wonders if Rhonda understood him a little more than he thought.

The phone rings and its fucking Ruth and he can’t imagine why she’s calling him but then she tells him why and everything changes.

She’s pale in the morning light and he doesn’t say anything at first, just lets her into the car. What could he possibly say? He gives her his cigarette and tells her that he broke up with Rhonda for some god damn fucking reason. It’s not really the time or place but he needs her to know that. 

And he’s got the wrong attitude for this kind of thing, joking as they sign in. Calling himself her fucking husband when they get mistaken for a couple again and he just keeps going, rambling about their hypothetical sex life and he should feel guilty but a small smile is on her face and he can’t imagine doing this for anyone else. Driving them to get an abortion early in the morning pretending to be their husband, and offering to get her pink donuts if it will make her eyes light up like they do when she smiles at him. 

He asks her what she wants, throws in one more “husband” for good measure and then shes getting called and he tells her they’ll get the donuts together and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he knows that for some reason, there’s a lot he’d fucking do to make Ruth Wilder happy.

If his life wasn’t enough of a sick joke, he finds out he’s a father after he makes a pass at fucking Justine, a child, when he’s high and drunk and so fucking tired because GLOW might be over and he’s always making bad decisions. He reacts as badly as possible and wants to throw up and scream and… he doesn’t know what. He just fucking came on to his fucking daughter. What the fuck was his life? He’s off the grid for days, trying to not feel anything or remember what a fucking shit stain he is.

He’s back for five seconds and there’s Ruth and suddenly he needs to see Justine and she’s with some guy and he doesn’t know how to be a dad but he has to try. Ruth is there, without being asked, saying what he needs to hear and knowing him well enough to call him on his shit. And he lets her take charge as he sets off to find his daughter.

It’s the fucking GLOW pilot taping and Sam missed most of it. He’s not directing, just watching. With Justine, with his teenage daughter he didn’t know he had a week ago. The last few months of his life have been such a whirlwind Sam doesn’t even know what to think anymore. Ruth and Debbie pull that fucking stunt and he isn’t an idiot so he turns the tables once more on them, changing the story. He won’t ever admit to her that it was good television, that maybe he could use some help with the show. Maybe they would work well together. He watches her as she stands outside the ring, bright and shining in her Zoya outfit, standing a little taller then when they first met. And Sam wonders if he’s more than a little bit fucked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this somehow became a bit of a character study as opposed to strictly Sam/Ruth but it’s still framed around their relationship. It ended up way longer than I meant it to lol. I also kinda gave Sam a lot of credit regarding his growth since I think he has come a long way with his old school sexist attitude and I wanna give him the benefit of the doubt.

Sam Sylvia doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. He got up this morning, made breakfast for his newly discovered teenage daughter (he’s going to have to actually buy groceries now), ironed some long forgotten pink button down and left for his first official day of directing GLOW. 

He tries to ignore the little voice in his head that reminds him Ruth likes pink things as he straightens his collar and scowls into the rear-view mirror. Sam can’t ignore it for long though since the woman in question is bounding over to his car the second she spots him, enthusiastically waving her hand. 

He’s already nervous for too many reasons, parked far away to give himself a moment of peace, battered portfolio clutched tightly to his chest. Or his fancy folder as Ruth calls it, eager to put him at ease. Clean and pretty she said. He isn’t sure he’s pleased someone noticed his effort or annoyed that he’s that easy to see through. 

Anxiety makes him want a smoke and a drink. Ruth’s chattering away and he’s spiraling.

She’s still speaking and calling herself her Alma to his Hitchcock. Sam can’t even spare a thought to the warmth it ignites, her easy loyalty to him and her belief in their partnership. And the fact that she's comparing them to one of the most successful married duos in Hollywood is a revelation he can’t handle this early in the morning. 

But Sam isn’t nice, no matter what Ruth or Justine, or even fucking Rhonda might want to believe. He’s battered and an addict and he can’t stop himself from lashing out most of the time. Like a beaten dog, he snaps at the offered hand and responds to her kindness with aggression and pretend apathy. 

For all her many flaws, Ruth is more than the “okay person” he claims her to be and she cheerfully hands him a small bottle of vodka. He downs half before she’s finished speaking. 

Sam is already in a bad mood after the meeting and Ruth is quick to point out the issues with production. If he was a better man, he might recognize the validity of her points but he’s used to working alone, to being the tortured artist. He tells her to make people feel special, to be his Alma, and she looks pleased as she scurries off to do that. She shouldn’t be pleased by his half-assed attempts to get her to fuck off, she’s not supposed to be grateful for it.

Then there’s some fucking hotshot TV director on his set, trying to tell him how to do his job. Sam is protective of his vision and his show, it’s still so new and there’s no guarantees. He’s terrified of failure, even after having achieved it many times. 

Failure is his old friend and he’s never learned how to deal with it. 

He’s failing to be a father with Justine. It’s only been a few weeks and he wasn’t prepared to be thrust into fatherhood,, let alone with an almost grown kid. He doesn’t know how to be paternal, how to be affectionate, or anything like that. He’s abrasive and argumentative, and not what Justine needs. 

The thoughts are swirling around his head as he gets to the set the next morning, a churning mess of anxieties. The show, the budget, his kid, the half put together set. Sam’s jittery and he wants nothing more than to run away. To leave before he can officially fail. 

The girls are all huddled around a TV and he feels his stomach drop. He knows Ruth wants to help, that she wants the show to succeed. But he also knows she wants power and that for all her issues, the rest of the cast and crew like her and he’s difficult to like. He’s an addict, old, and has an enormous ego. 

Sam would have been pissed enough if it was just them but Glenn was there too and he could see Ruth falter, her eyes flickering to him, unease clear on her face. But she’s hitting play anyway and the stupid montage is playing. It’s not terrible, not great either. He doesn’t really fucking care that much about the video, it’s everyone's reactions that set him off. 

Sam’s not her Hitchcock, she’s not his Alma. He doesn’t work well with others. It’s just him and his vision and his consuming passion for film and he doesn’t want help, he doesn’t need help.

He’s not going to apologize to some fucking actress who hasn’t even had a real job and who thinks she’s a director because she batted her eyes at some fucking camera man and got her way.

Sam doesn’t need reminders of his past failings, that Ruth really did direct the pilot and that he fucked up before they had even begun. He’s yelling and he’s firing Reggie, not Ruth, because while he’s mad, he can’t lose Ruth. Not like this. 

They all look at him, a new understanding in their eyes and he’s gotten what he wanted but it doesn’t feel like it. 

Ruth might want to make him out to be better than he is but the truth is, he isn’t going to lose sleep over firing some fucking replaceable viking and yelling at the women he’s in charge of. 

Still, she calls them a team and he lies to her, says they’re all replaceable. Even her. But she isn’t or she would be fired right now. Sam’s felt the stirring of affection, of warmth when he watches them all work together. That unfamiliar feeling of pride. 

He isn’t ready to admit that he’s becoming attached to them, to her. 

Despite being banned from wrestling for the time being and unsure of her place on the show, Ruth still keeps helping. Sam pretends to be blind to it, that she’s the one who hands out the walkie-talkies, who motivates the girls, who keeps things running smoothly backstage.

It’s easier to be mad then deal with it. 

Justine is there, asking when he’ll be home and he doesn’t deal with that either. Ruth is breathless behind her, trying as always to help him. 

Sam knows he doesn’t fucking deserve it, that he might have fucked up more than he can redeem. Because at the end of the day, he’s her boss and he’s using that power against her. They’re not Alma and Hitch because they aren’t equal. 

He tells her he doesn’t want to see her and it tastes like ash in his mouth. He’s still mad and bitter and he doesn’t know how to stop. 

Sam pretends he forgets about her when they plan the next show, throwing her at the new girl, knowing he’s setting her up to fail. 

They blow off Debbie’s dinner. He doesn’t view her as a producer and he isn’t going to waste his time dealing with some drama queen who wants to feel like she’s in charge. (He feels a dull shock the next day when Debbie casually hands him nerds and wonders if he might be underestimating more than just Ruth, that maybe he’s judged the women of GLOW a bit too harshly). 

Ruth is in the ring once again, her stupid Zoya hat looking extra ridiculous with her regular curls. Sam ignores the flare of attraction he feels when he sees her, it’s second nature now. 

Of fucking course Ruth manages to foil his plan to make her fail. The dancing isn’t exactly what he had in mind and she’s not that great at it, but it's better than what anyone else came up with and could cut together well. 

He’s surprised by Debbie once again when she throws his own unfair resentment in his face. That he’s still punishing Ruth and it’s only undermining them. And if Debbie can say that Ruth is what they need, he’s clearly too far up his own asshole. Zoya the Destroyer will get to perform. 

It’s almost tradition now, to look up from the monitors and see Ruth hesitating in his doorway the night of the show. She gives him that smile he doesn’t deserve when he says he’s hiding from her. 

She asks if they’re back to joking. He wonders if she missed it as much as he did. That daily reminder he’s become so fucking reliant on this woman and that going a week without speaking to her made working on GLOW unbearable. 

Still Ruth thanks him and Sam hates himself for doing this to their dynamic. For reminding her that he holds her fate in his hands. He wonders if he's become the sleazy director he always railed against in his youth. She stutters over her words and he’s cruel again. 

She’s more gracious than he is and leaves him with a half smile, despite his best efforts to be an asshole. 

Camera 1 cuts out and her voice is distant in his headphones. She’s talking to Russell, the one who helped her with the fucking intro. He’s up before he knows what he's doing, yelling down at “camera a”, his eyes flickering between him and Ruth. 

Sam sits at the monitoring station, alone again. He’s always fucking alone in there, he works best by himself (or at least he tells himself that, maybe one day he’ll believe it). 

He watches camera 1 on the monitor, as she smiles slyly at whoever is behind it, dancing closer and blowing a kiss as he slides his headphones back on. 

Sam can’t look away as she smiles the smile she used to save for him and spins around for the camera. His chest aches from the dual waves of fondness and self loathing. 

He can’t be that for her, some young and funny camera operator who doesn’t belittle her and make her work for every shred of affection.

He’s realizing that it’s worse than he thought. That it’s more than just attraction, or lust. Or fondness born out of proximity. He wants her in several ways and that there's an uncomfortable jealousy tugging at his heart and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. 

He takes a drag of his cigarette and turns the monitor off.

They’re filming that stupid fucking PSA and he can’t be involved because Bash is groping his fucking teenaged daughter (fuck he wants to forget that night). He tells the camera men what to do and he’s appeased by their deference to him. Until as he walks away and stops suddenly, realizes they might be giving him shit. Fucking Russell. Him and his fucking porn stache and his date with Ruth. 

Yeah Sam heard him and he wasn’t blind, all their giggling stares at each other and the mics still hot when he checks the station.

Then he’s going to get Cherry and trying to fix that shit show and in the back of his mind he’s wondering what happened that night. He hears the girls talk about some fucking party and Ruth and Debbie staying late to edit but what he doesn’t know is if Russell stayed late too. 

If they still made it to their movie or if they joined the rest of the cast and crew at the motel. If Russell stayed at the motel.

He’s irrational the next few times they film, convinced Russell’s shots are lingering on Ruth more than anyone else. Or that he’s not, so that means they aren’t… dating or fucking or whatever they want to call it. He doesn’t hear anything over the headset and he doesn't see Ruth approach him.

Sam feels pathetic. 

And amidst all this ruminating, Ruth steals the show once more. Saves the story and the show again. Quick on her feet to fix the shit storm brewing in the ring. (And Russell’s quick to find her with the camera, even if that is his fucking job)

They’re not offered any fucking water and Sam knows its the beginning of the end. Why, he’s got no fucking clue, but he knows. He’s been down this road too many times to be blind to it.

And during the producers meeting, the one he knows Ruth is dying to be in, he listens to Debbie ramble on about her fucking soaps story lines and he know it isn’t going to work. 

She doesn't have what it takes. He’ll give her credit when it comes to the more business side but Bash and her don’t understand story. Ruth does. 

GLOW’s pushed to 2 am and he meets the head prick in charge Tom Grant and he’s failing anyway. Despite his best efforts, despite the shit he’s pulled the last few weeks, his alienating of the others, it didn’t fucking matter. He’s failed again. 

And if that wasn’t enough, he had his little film showing and Justine was somehow sleeping through it. He couldn’t face that alone. The empty seats that would mock him, tickets he was given to hand out but couldn’t think of anyone to invite. 

Sam couldn’t show that side of him to the GLOW girls, he couldn’t ask Ruth. Not after everything. 

So he would sit. He would watch. And be reminded of the time when he was young and a little less afraid, doing what he wanted to do. (But still driving everyone crazy and alienating anyone who got too close.)

He felt small in the theater, not that it was particularly big one. It was amazing how someone could feel so young and old at the same time. He had shot Gina the Machina a thousand years ago and was so much older, and jaded now.

But deeply buried within his guilt and anger and addiction, there was a young boy who loved movies and wanted to share his work with the world. 

Someone’s settling into a seat behind him and he turns out of mild curiosity before doing a double take. It’s fucking Ruth, looking painfully awkward and uncertain as she clutches her popcorn. 

Then she's awkwardly climbing over the seat, spilling popcorn all over the place and they’re side by side, the awkwardness of the last few weeks painfully felt. 

“Justine invited me.” Sam wonders for a minute, if Justine planned it. He talked about Ruth a little too much, even if most of it was complaining about how annoying she was. And it wasn’t like Justine to miss one of his movies or a chance to bond over them. Was it crazy to assume she might be trying to set them up? He remembered how much she had bristled at Rhonda and him sleeping together.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Sam asks instead, still dying to know what was going on between her and the camera operator. He says his name with clear disdain, trying to figure out if he should expect the idiot to come strolling in. 

He tries to show nothing outwardly when she clarifies their relationship is nonexistent, that it never really started. 

“Sam.” The way Ruth says his name has him looking over in surprise, her voice supportive and firm as she compels him to say something at the ushers request. Then he reluctantly is, tensing under the eyes of a bunch of teenagers and he doesn’t know what to say but he tries, for her. For the way she says his name.

She asks if its the movie with the anal birth and he shushes her but is pleased to know she pays attention, remembers which ones hes talked about. Doesn’t mean he’ll tolerate her talking through it though. 

People liked his movie, Justine is in AV club and he feels a little better than when he walked into the theater. He got to watch Ruth's face as she saw his film for the first time, got to hear her gasps of surprise and groans of disgust. 

“I’m not angry with you. I’m an insecure old man. I get defensive.” Sam finds himself softening, tired of holding on to a stupid fight, after she’s made so many peace gestures. 

So he apologizes, in his own way. Lets her see how broken and defeated he can be. He adds the sue me, to soften the blow. To cut through the weight of the moment and they both look away from each other with soft smiles.

Sam’s missed her and she liked his movie. Ruth sees him too clearly as always and he finds he wants to tell her more. About how he’s always been a prick to work with. But she focuses on that he shot it himself, always seeing the good. 

It’s funny because Sam wouldn’t call her the easiest person in the world to talk to or the kindest. She’s difficult, pretentious, and fucking annoying in a way no one else is. 

Yet he’s missed her and the ability to speak about his feelings, the way he only can with her. And all the insecurities and anxieties from the last few weeks come pouring out. 

Ruth returns the favor, voice timid as she confesses what she knows. The real reason the show is being fucked. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He asks, temper barely reigned in as he stares at her apprehensive face. He’s furious. And he doesn’t care who hears him curse, despite her protesting. 

He’s rambling and she's smiling so softly at him and he doesn’t know what to focus on. Relief that it wasn’t him or her or any of them, that it’s the fucking man as usual. Some sleazy piece of shit who's throwing a temper tantrum. 

They leave the theater together and he drives her home, feeling better than he has in weeks.

His mind won't rest that night. Reminding him that he did the same thing as Tom Grant, on a smaller scale. He belittled Ruth and punished her because he didn’t get what he wanted. He’s made comments about women since the moment he laid eyes on them and fucked his actresses. Even if it’s always been consensual, he’s starting to understand what it means. The position he’s put her in.

She had told him a little more in the car, about what had happened, brushing over it all. He thinks about her going to that dinner, excited and full of ideas. Thinking someone had finally recognized her talent. That if Sam wasn’t going to let her do anything, at least this guy would. 

And instead some prick touched her, fondled her, and destroyed her naivety. 

Sam wants to throw something when he thinks about what could have happened. If he hadn’t been such an asshole, maybe she wouldn’t have been so vulnerable. But that’s not true, he knows the way the industry works. He would know, he’s been playing a part in it for a long time. 

Ruth would have found herself in that kind of situation with or without GLOW.

Sam doesn’t sleep much that night, out the door early, car tire in hand. He might not be able to take back what he did. He might not be able to save GLOW. But he can do something for her, something to piss off that douchebag. 

He won’t ever tell her he did it. It would ruin the gesture. It’s not about him. It’s about her, and GLOW, and his dawning understanding of the shit women have to go through in the industry. He thinks about Ruth and Justine and the other girls of GLOW and maybe he shouldn’t be having this revelation in his 50s, but he’s having it all the same. 

(Okay, it’s a little bit about him, and that it’s his show and the fact that he's possessive over Ruth) 

Sam is chipper going into work that night, riding the high of the movie, his reconciliation with Ruth, and the satisfaction of smashing a windshield in. He should probably be concerned about how fond his good evening to Ruth was, but he can’t be bothered. 

She’s wearing that red sweater he likes and he doesn’t see Russell hovering by her, so it’s a good start to the filming already. Justine is apologizing for missing the film and maybe she didn’t try to force him and Ruth together. Is that good or bad?

Either way, he feels like a burden has been lifted off his shoulders. Ruth and him are okay, the show is fucked anyway so what the hell, he’ll let Justine run the booth and go back to his roots. Take one of his last chances to be behind the camera. He’s been criticizing the filming for weeks now, why shouldn’t he get a chance to show the idiot crew how it's done? 

Ruth is staring at him, her lips twitching and he’s flushed. She says he looks so much younger and he fights the urge to puff out his chest, maybe she’s seeing him in a new light but he’s still Sam so he tells her to shut up, eyes searching hers. 

Sam’s filming, doing exactly what he imagined Russell to be doing, focusing a little too much on Ruth. He can’t help it, she’s magnetic as Zoya. He wants to capture her in all her glory. All dark eyes and sex appeal despite the ridiculous accent and words that come out of her mouth. 

It’s slow and fast all at once, how the fight seems to take a turn. Ruth's cries change in pitch, her face confused and ashen in the view port of his camera. She’s slow to react and Debbie is coming down hard, pushing back Kieth, grabbing Ruth and then there’s a terrible noise. 

Sam's hands shake as he tries to steady the camera, to preserve the show, to keep filming. Every instinct in him is screaming to put it down, to see if she’s okay as she cries in pain, clutching her leg.

He films her face because he wants to capture the show and the drama but also because he’s focused on her, needing to see if she’s okay, if this is real.

There’s silence in the audience and Bash is trying to salvage the match. Kieth turns to him for direction and before he can speak, Russell is putting his camera down and getting into the ring. Picking her up easily. Ruth’s moans of pain unsettling him as he keeps the camera on them, Sam pauses, camera drifting out of focus as he watches Russell carry her.

She’s out of the ring and there’s nothing to keep him filming, he barely registers another guy taking his camera as he rips his headset off. 

Everyone is gathered outside and Sam is running after the girls. Unsure of how much emotion he can show. 

They’re arguing about where to go and its stupid and he’s taking charge, that’s what he does. This is his responsibility and he tells Ruth that she’ll be fine, that its nothing even though he knows what he saw and heard. 

Russell says they're right behind them and he can’t help the alpha male rearing up inside him. Who is this guy, he barely even knows Ruth. He could have carried her too. He would have, he should have.

Sam’s not sure if he’s criticizing Russell for abandoning the show or himself for abandoning Ruth. 

He can’t leave yet, he has to tell the crew what to do, make sure they handle the audience. Help Justine with the booth and he’s dying to get out of there, to be at the hospital. With Ruth. To make sure she’s okay. 

They finally get there and Ruth’s still waiting, and he’s pissed because why the fuck haven’t they helped her yet, he fucking hates hospitals. 

And it’s just his fucking luck they get there the same time as Russell, who’s quick to run to Ruth’s side. Sam hangs back, unsure of his place in this circle. 

How many fucking times is he going to say hi to Ruth, why is she so shy with fucking Russell, fucking damn it, he should have reacted quicker. He should have put his camera down and been the one to carry her. 

Sam takes his chance this time, jumping to be the one to take her back to the room, pushing past Russell. He glares and tries not to worry about what the rest of the girls will think when he takes hold of the wheelchair and proclaims it his show, taking a dig at Russell’s dramatic carry. He means she’s his, but she isn’t. Not really. 

Of course Ruth can’t give up the boots, and it takes him all of a second to come to a decision. He approaches her warily, snuffing out his cigarette, gently placing a hand on her ankle before she flinches in pain and he lifts it quickly. He didn’t mean for it to be such a possessive hold, he didn’t mean to hurt her. 

Sam’s slow to undo the laces, defensive as she preemptively flinches from his touch. Her big eyes look up at him as he unlaces, glancing between her and the boot. He pulls the boot off slowly, unable to help the gentle glide of his fingers over her calf. 

He’s never touched her like this, bare skin to skin. They lock eyes as he gently caresses her skin as he lets her leg go, cursing at the sight of her ankle.

Sam knows she’s fucked for the rest of the season and he can’t think about that now, can’t let her think about it. He holds her boot like a lifeline. She asks him to distract her and he doesn’t know what she wants him to say. 

Thankfully Justine comes in with snacks and then Sheila is darting in with an extra pillow and blanket. He tries to cover her with it but everything he does seems to cause her more pain. Sam twitches the cover once more before giving up. He isn’t made to be gentle, loving. 

The girls keep a constant rotation of visitors in the hours they’re waiting, and he's with her the whole time, sharing snacks with her, pointing out a new face in the doorway and just being with her. 

He wishes they weren’t there at all, but Sam can’t help the warmth he feels when they exchange a glance or smile over the antics of her fellow wrestlers. They haven’t been together like this for weeks and he appreciates the time with her.

He discovers he has a talent for origami and takes delight in giving Ruth the frog he makes. Sam sits on her bed for that, their sides pressed together. She’s warm and every time he reaches across for more paper, he shivers at the contact. 

He finds the courage to cover her with the blanket more, up to her chin when she shivers as well. He tucks it in and catches her eye, she's looking at him like she’s never seen him before when Tammé comes in and he busies himself with reading a magazine on the other bed, making faces at her whenever Ruth looks over at him. 

Melrose takes no time in getting comfy on the bed, cracking open a copy of cosmo and proceeds to ask Ruth sex questions for the next 30 minutes, not that she lets Ruth answer much. Sam relocates to the corner, keeping one arm propped on her bed, finding himself unable to leave her for very long. 

Sam listens a little too closely to the answers she does get to give to Melrose's questions. 

His arm is behind her again when Cherry and Kieth demonstrate her new character, his thumb brushes her neck before she shudders and he moves it back to resting on the pillow.  
By the time they’re finally able to x-ray her ankle, Sam's back to his chair and trying his hand at more origami. Every time he makes another one, he’s treated to the sight of Ruth's eyes lighting up and her over the top praise as she teases him for being so invested in it now. 

He gets to talk with Archie and updates the girls on what he knows and tries to calm them and get them to go home. He was telling the truth, they did do an amazing job. And there’s no way they’re going to get their old time slot back but fuck it, they’ll die on their own terms.

Sam’s not sure why he gives Debbie a chance, she doesn’t deserve it. She purposely hurt Ruth, they all saw it. And clearly under the influence of fucking something. He may be able to relate to the cheating spouse dilemma but Debbie’s drama queen power trip has been going on for too long. 

He’s back to loitering around the vending machines outside her door when Debbie and her start screaming at each other. He wishes he couldn't hear but he can’t help it. And fuck if he doesn’t understand where Ruth’s coming from. 

It’s just them again, Ruth quiet and withdrawn after her fight with Debbie. She’s telling him to replace her with Justine. It’s not imaginable, Zoya as anyone but Ruth. GLOW without Ruth isn’t GLOW. 

He tells her he isn't giving her part away. As always Ruth’s too dedicated to the show and for once she’s spilling her feelings first, voice thick with emotion when she looks up at him, tells him she's never had people be there for her before. 

He knows how she feels. He stayed by her side all night didn’t he? He needs her to know he understands, that he cares. 

Sam’s lowering himself to her level, hands coming to rest by her side as he stares at her, refusing to break eye contact. Telling her what he’s always known, that he doesn’t want to do this without her. That he can’t and won’t make it without her.

She throws his words from before back at him, that they’re all replaceable but it’s not done with malice. It’s spoken softly and rooted in insecurity as she stares at him. 

His heart is beating too fast as he looks away, gathering his courage before meeting her eyes again. “You’re not.”

It’s the truth. He’s grown attached to all of them in some way but there's a reason he fired Reggie, not her, a reason that he didn’t want to get closer with Rhonda but in the same day took Ruth to get an abortion. 

Why he looks for her whenever he’s speaking, how they seem to always know where the other is in a room.

She’s not replaceable. She’s Ruth and he doesn’t want to know what he is without her now. 

Her eyes search his and he doesn’t know what else to say, what he wants her to say in return as her lips stretch into a small smile and Sam can only think about how much he wants to fucking kiss her and how tired he is of ignoring that urge and that maybe this is the moment to do it. 

But Bash comes in and it’s over. He’s writing his initials shakily and telling her his middle name (ignoring Bash’s aw and her suggestion for a heart even though he kinda wants to draw one now). He put his initials at the top of the cast, the easiest place for her to see it. 

Sam almost wishes he had written his name for a second, big enough so Russell couldn't fit his once the girls got to it.

But he’s not going to piss all over her like a dog, she isn’t his and he’s realizing that he wants her to be happy. He doesn’t want to be like Tom fucking Grant and punish her for not wanting him back. 

He wants her to come to him because she sees it too, how they’re so similar, how they’re better when they work together. How no one else seems to be able to make him smile like she does. 

They leave the hospital together, Ruth making sure her Zoya boots are safely in her arms as he wheels her out. The look he gives the top of her head is fucking ridiculously fond and sappy and he’s fucking glad Debbie and Bash can’t see it. 

Justine asks if they can invite Ruth for their new “family dinners” and he’s once again suspicious that Justine has some kind of ulterior motive. She’s not particularly close to any of the GLOW girls. They’re friendly but now that she’s been exposed as a teenager and his daughter, it hasn’t been the same. Yet she seems to be suddenly very fond of Ruth. And Sam’s not sure what to make of it.

He pretends to be annoyed by it and grumbles a bit before giving in though he doubts Justine’s fooled. 

The next day he drags his feet before catching Ruth at the end of rehearsal, asking if she wants to have dinner with him. And Justine, he adds on when her eyes widen. Family dinner, he clarifies further. The way her expression melts and she says yes sends something hot through Sam and he’s brave enough to risk a hand on the small of her back as she hobbles over to his car. If anyone asked it was because of the ankle.

Dinner is good. It’s better than good actually. They cook together and the conversation never seems to falter. He feels like a real father for once, as he watches Justine ramble about school, her friends and AV club. 

Ruth is so good with her, seeming to know exactly what to say. Maybe it’s because Ruth had been a teenage girl once and understood Justine more then Sam ever could.

They had a little too much wine and everything was warm as Ruth thanked him for inviting her. He’s quick to undermine it, make it Justine's need for a buffer. It comes out flirter then he means it to. 

And it’s painfully domestic when Ruth calls from the other room about Justine's dresses and Sam;s blindsided by the fact that Billy is apparently still in the picture. He imagines for a quick second if it was like this every day, Justine and Ruth and him.

Sam dismisses the thought. Justine is almost an adult and Ruth is only in her 30s and not interested in him. They’re not some nuclear family just because he’s had too much wine and they had one nice dinner. 

He still helps her with her crutches as she giggles and sways into his space, partially because of the wine, mostly because of the ankle. He takes a moment to smell her hair and enjoy the moment of closeness, his smile the one he now thinks of Ruth's, the one where he looks overly fond and his mustache twitches up a little too high. 

Ruth’s stumbling over to the couch and she looks so at home there. And Sam’s telling the truth that he can’t drive her home but he conveniently doesn’t bring up the concept of a cab. He offers Justine's room only because he has to bite his tongue to stop himself from offering his own. Even if he stayed on the couch, it would be nice. If she slept in his bed. God he’s fucking drunk. 

Ruth will only accept the couch but it doesn’t stop him from getting one of the pillows from his bed and giving it to her. Hoping that maybe it will smell a little bit like her when he uses it next. He stumbles from the light switch with that pathetic thought. 

It’s feels like a family again when he shouts for Justine to turn the music off, telling her that “Ruthie's” trying to sleep and now that he’s said it aloud, he’s gonna have a hard fucking time not using that nickname again. Fuck. 

Their temporary domestic bubble is popped the next morning by the banging on the door. When Justine and her mom are screaming at each other outside, Sam cringes to think of what Rosalie must have thought when Ruth answered the door. 

Some young, pretty woman in sleep mussed clothes with messy hair and him in boxers right behind her. The bottles of wine still on the table. 

He begs her to stay with him because he can’t face Rosalie on his own and he’s better when Ruth is around, it’s easier for him to express his emotions. And she was so good with Justine, maybe it will transfer to Rosalie. 

And Sam can’t lose Justine, he just found her. He doesn’t want to let this go, this little family he has going. 

Somehow, Ruth gets roped into the argument, helping Sam deal with Rosalie and he tries not to think about how they present themselves as a couple, a partnership. 

Sam begs her to come with him to the dance too, has her wear the leftover terrible green dress.

He didn’t need her to come it turns out but he’s glad she came all the same. She’s grinning up at him from the bleachers and he feels like a lame 17 year old again, asking the pretty girl to dance. He’s not sure why but it took him three times to get over there and ask but in for a penny and all that. Sam calls her a heart breaker and he’s not kidding.

She eventually agrees and he makes her leave the crutches, hold on to his hand instead. He’s not sure if its a blessing or a curse the music switches to a slow song and the lights go down.

Her hand is soft and small in his as they dance and he smiles that for-Ruth-only smile as he looks around the room, knowing they’re hardly inconspicuous as the only adults dancing. He doesn’t fucking care. 

Ruth stumbles and drops his hand, forced to step closer and cling to him to stay upright. His hand trails down her arm and it sends sparks of pleasure through him when she shudders and inches closer. He clutches her a little tighter around her waist, his other hand going up her back as he buries his head in the crook of her neck. 

She smells like him, having borrowed his soap to get ready for tonight. Her curls tickle his cheek and he breathes in deeply, feels her breathing stutter in response. Her hands span his back as they slowly spin, and he feels more hope then he’s felt in a long time. He feels Ruth pull back a little and he does too, meeting her wide, dark eyes that never fail to make his heart stutter or his pants feel tight.

Fuck it, it’s now or never right? He thinks, the moment too good to pass up. She must like him a little or she wouldn’t hold him like this, look at him like that. Her eyes flicker down to his lips and he leans in, looking up at her again before going in for sure.

Her hands goes to his neck. Their noses brush, a sharp intake of air, his mouth almost touches hers and she's suddenly spinning away, claiming her ankle hurts and his heart sinks. 

She’s running away and he doesn’t know what to do, calling her name twice and cursing himself for being a fool. 

He loses Justine anyway. He doesn’t sleep that night. 

They don’t get to talk about it before it's the morning and they’re auditioning the match. It’s fucking pathetic, as Cherry and Carmen try their hardest to not hurt Ruth and there’s no way in hell Sam’s going to let them do it for the show.

But he thinks of Ruth in the hospital bed, so happy to have people who care about her. He sees how hard they’re all trying and he can’t help but offer her the chance to co-direct. She deserves it, she’s doing the job most shows anyway. His Alma always.

Ruth is easy to read as she clutches onto the rope and breathlessly says she’ll do whatever the show needs. He can see how relieved she is, how happy the other girls are, and his chest aches for her just a little bit. He couldn’t deny her this. He couldn’t deny her much anymore.

She finds him in the ring later. They don’t acknowledge the dance until he starts talking about love, because last night he realized he loved her. And he says kiss and she falters, her usual smile and jokes gone, unable to meet his eye. He tries to explain, not that he knows what he’s going to say- 

She’s sleeping with Russell. 

He stops speaking and his heart breaks a little. Because she doesn’t want him, some old washed up director with a long lost teenage daughter and enough emotional baggage to scare off anyone. 

Scare them enough to send them running to another man since he knows she wasn’t with him before. That stings more than he can imagine.

Sam doesn’t know what to say and he tells her that. Then he tells her about Justine because even now, he still wants to share everything with her.

Sam’s lost them both and the room is still there, he still wants her and Justine and family dinner nights. 

But he does something different, something that surprises himself. He doesn't get mad. He’s sad, he’s fucking heartbroken but there isn’t that usual spark of anger, that need to ruin it. 

Sam’s not perfect and he can’t change everything about himself but he can do this. He can be better than he was. He isn’t the man he was before. He’s got Justine even if she’s not here, he has GLOW (even if its cancelled) and he thinks he still has Ruth, even if it's not how he wants her. 

He changes the subject to flowers and the girls (when did they become the girls to him again?) and she smiles so softly at him it breaks his heart all over again. 

Somehow they’re fine, the two of them. Alma and Hitch. When Russell comes in, Sam takes his cue and exits gracefully, only shooting her one last look as he climbs the stairs to his office. Alone. 

He’s only human though and he’s broken hearted and he can’t afford to be getting drunk and high so he finds himself sitting in a strip club, taking Ray up on his offer. 

Instead of enjoying the display of scantily clad women, he's thinking of Ruth and the rest of the girls of GLOW, of Justine, and he can’t look at any of the women on the poles because he’s changed and it’s so empty now. Instead he eats some wings and does paperwork, just relishing the chance to get away from the gym and the thoughts of Ruth on her date with Russell. 

He finds himself angry at the thought of any of the GLOW girls being strippers, getting leered at by these fucking idiots. 

Archie is a surprise and he’s amused but pleased to discover she’s a little in love with Yolanda. He can relate to her confusion and sudden feelings. GLOW seems to bring that out in all of them. Yolanda sends him running with the terrifying threat of nudity. 

It’s the final taping of GLOW. Thankfully Sam didn’t have to try and trick Ruth into getting dressed as Zoya. In fact, she asked him if she could since it was her last chance to be the crazy Russian. It was easy to tell all the girls about his plan and they were thrilled to help, even Debbie who seemed to have softened since their blow out in the hospital. 

Not that Sam gave a shit what Debbie wanted, it was her fault they had to do this in the first place. 

As Ruth settled into the chair at the station, he stole another glance at her. She was lost in her own world, gazing out at monitors and the ring just below them. Sam knew she loved GLOW and in moments like these, he could see how much she put into it, how this was her whole world. He looked at her like that. 

The shows going well, all things considering. Bash might have hijacked the wedding but they managed to recover well enough and Debbie's surprise wrestling cameos were dealt with too. It was as wild and unpredictable as a pre-scripted wrestling show could be. 

He’s telling Ruth to get up, to hurry and she’s hobbling over, her face alight with joy and a little bit of confusion. Then she’s swinging into the ring, stealing the show, and already desecrating the bouquet of flowers. Sam’s grinning as he watches her celebrate, arms spread wide as she reveals in the mix of applause and heckling. There’s no time to celebrate with her when Glenn drops his bombshell and all their dreams of saving the show are dashed. 

But like everything in the last year, it changes in a flash and the next thing he knows, they’re getting ready to board a bus to Las Vegas. 

Ruth had stolen some last moments with Russell that Sam was choosing to not see as he gazed out the window. She finally boarded the bus and he saw her shift her bag as she looked around the bus for a seat. 

He held his breath as she made her way towards his row and sat down next to him despite the empty seats before them. 

Neither of them spoke for a bit, the bus silent as they pulled onto the highway towards Sin City. 

“I’ve never been to Vegas.” Ruth commented at last, her tone conversational as she looked at Sam. He beamed at her. 

“Oh, you’re gonna hate it.” Sam chuckled, stealing another look at Ruth's bemused face when she glanced back at him. He fell silent as she looked ahead, her face falling a little bit as the bus rattled on, their future uncertain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know what you think! I'm still new to writing and I'm trying to get the voice/tone of the show and characters down more. I have a few other works started and would love suggestions for what else to write!


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